


With cream and sugar, please

by isafil



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Explicit Sexual Content, First Time, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, M/M, mystrade
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-07
Updated: 2019-08-07
Packaged: 2020-08-11 14:28:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,334
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20155105
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/isafil/pseuds/isafil
Summary: The original work was published in french. The story you're are going to read is translated with Deepl.It's an excerpt from a longer story, Café crème.  Hope you enjoy it, anyway !





	With cream and sugar, please

**Author's Note:**

> The original work was published in french. The story you're are going to read is translated with Deepl.  
It's an excerpt from a longer story, Café crème. Hope you enjoy it, anyway !

"My brother is ridiculous, completely grotesque," Mycroft protested, while Gregory Lestrade, without saying a word, but with sparkling eyes, wrapped him again in his coat, in view of the gusts of wind that were blowing through the trees in front of the hospital. "I don't need to be taken care of. I do everything very well. I have Anthea and I have to get back to the department as soon as possible. Urgent files, you understand, Detective Inspector... »

Mycroft's voice became increasingly weak and high-pitched as he clumsily tried to get away from the police officer. But Gregory Lestrade was not convinced by protests that he hoped were only there for the sake of it. Mycroft had let himself be dragged out of Sherlock's room without reacting and leaned heavily against him in the elevator. He had tried to get back to his limousine on the street, but the policeman had firmly pulled him away from his car and hailing a taxi.

"Really Mycroft? Look me in the eye, files? »

The taxi arrived at that time and the police officer gave him an address on the East Side. The two men found themselves, huddled together, in the narrow cockpit of the rear seat, the windows of the car completely fogged up by the rain that kept beating on the roof.

Mycroft, who had sat as far away from Gregory Lestrade as possible, felt upset. The horror of believing his brother dead for long hours and the assaults of unfounded guilt added to the chaos of his most intimate feelings. He had tried so hard to push back what he felt for the inspector. He had lied to himself. For a long time. For months now. Until the day before. Until yesterday, that moment in the police car where he almost gave in to his desire. This hidden feeling, that he wielded every time he needed to protect his brother, like a shield directed against himself to deny himself what he desperately wanted, now, in a way, Sherlock had just authorized it.

_My brother's guardian? Is it over?_

In the hospital room earlier, it had been like a tidal wave; he had half fallen against the chair, under the flow of Sherlock's words, who, in the blink of an eye, had observed everything, deduced everything, said everything. The strength and confidence that the policeman surrounded him with. His own ineffable desire to lose himself in him.

_Has the moment arrived?_

Smothering a moan with the back of his hand, Mycroft approached the policeman whose hand, like last night, had found its way to his. And as he closed his eyes, caught between his reason and his desire, he felt Gregory Lestrade touch the inside of his wrist with his thumb, without speaking, without asking for anything else, but with such sweetness and intensity, that the caress seemed to him to go straight to his heart.

_Do I have the right to do so ?_

Mycroft took a long breath and then placed his head on the officer's shoulders.

"My" ? Then asked the policeman. And in that one word, in that delicate question, Mycroft saw everything that the policeman had not wanted to admit to himself either, since that failed meeting at the press conference, where neither of them had dared to cross the wall they had put so much care into building around themselves.

"Gregory," Mycroft simply replied. And everything was said.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

As soon as the steps leading to the apartment were swallowed, as soon as the door was opened and closed with a loud crash, it was a shower of kisses on both sides, impatient hands sneaking under the thin fabric of the shirts, hot lips looking for each other, eager for sweetness. The clothes fell, faster than a summer storm, into the rustle of the mouths swollen with desire. The bodies were dancing around each other. It was Mycroft, already kneeling and laying his lips on her lover's incandescent rigidity. It was Gregory hugging Mycroft, gently stroking his pleasure-hardened nipples with his mouth while his hand found the other man's intimacy lower down in the red nest; it was Mycroft again, now leaning against the wall, legs spread, grabbed Gregory from behind and held him all against him, his sex already standing between their two bodies. He felt against his heart the warm skin and masculine fragrance of the police officer, woody scents of tobacco and wool now mixed with the powerful smell of desire. Gregory had thrown his head back and let Mycroft kiss his bare neck. Mycroft, as if in a state of vertigo, relived himself the day before in his solitary office.

_I had dreamed of it, just yesterday_

But suddenly with a firm movement, despite the exquisite caress of the lips that touched the lobe of his ear and intoxicated him with pleasure, Gregory turned around; he put his hands on Mycroft's shoulders, moving him a little away from him and whispered to him, his voice a little uncertain:

"Not like that, My. For our first time, I want to see you, you understand ? »

And he let himself slip with his back flat on the ground, his legs half raised, his bare feet firmly on the ground. Mycroft knelt beside him, stroking his already soaked forehead; his mouth found his lips half closed, struggling to contain the moans of pleasure. He sat up a little and whispered:

"You want to see me, Gregory, and I want to hear you. Please don't contain anything. »

A louder moaning was his only answer; , he slipped between his legs wide open, an arm stretched out on one of his hands, shaking under the violence of the effort, his clear eyes never leaving the eyes of his lover, shining with something different, something he couldn't determine. His other hand had found the way of their sexes, standing up against each other, rubbing gently, discovering for the first time the intimacy of the other. His long fingers surrounded them to make only one desire. Under the burning caress, Gregory arches his back to come all the way against Mycroft, as close as possible to his heat.

"I want to see you; look at me, My, when... "He didn't have time to finish his sentence. Mycroft had brought his hand near Gregory's face. He lowered his chest slightly and his mouth intimately took the other man's mouth. An intense heat then penetrated Gregory deep inside himself. His hips hit Mycroft's hips, bringing the two men a burning wave. Mycroft withdrew a little, then plunged again and then faster and faster and then harder and harder. Unceasing waves of pleasure came to seize the two lovers at the same time.

"My, my love, I... "Gregory called out, just as pleasure was overtaking himself.

The words had crossed his lips, without him realizing it, with a fervour that almost surprised him. It was like a cry that had been held back for too long, and that had now finally found its way.

"Gregory?" Mycroft replied in a whisper.

"Yes, My?"

"I love you too. »

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Gregory Lestrade woke up a little later, a smile on his lips, in the darkness of the room. Nestled against him in the hollow of his arms, Mycroft was still sleeping, his mouth a little open, his smoky eyelids covering his grey eyes that had looked at him so intensely a few hours earlier.

_My love_

The policeman moved his shoulder slightly and that was enough for Mycroft to wake up, his lips already caressing her lover's warm skin, while they had not yet opened his eyes.

_My Gregory_

"My, are you awake? "asked the policeman, dropping a shower of kisses on his much desired eyelids. "Do you want a drink? "he added? "Coffee, maybe? »

Mycroft began to smile for himself.

_This fragrance of coffee and wool_

"Yes, Gregory. Thank you". And he added in a whisper: "Not black like yours, but with cream and sugar, please".

Translated with www.DeepL.com/Translator


End file.
